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07-24-2013, 07:41 PM
Low, warm laughter filled the air, filtering from the shadows beneath the trees of the Threshold. A dark figure, colored in monochromatic hues, untangled herself from the deep darkness beneath a small grove of trees and approached the mismatched group. The grulla mare walked with an air of authority, body marked with scars of battle and of fire, her dark eyes alight with unhidden humor.
"You are right to find ire towards some who flock here, winged one. Grasping at fragile straws to boost their numbers to fight their losing causes, without a concern for what truly suits the needs and wants of the stranger who has stumbled into Helovia. Others are genuinely interested in finding the best fit, such as myself."
Lips curving in a smile, half welcoming and half wry, she dismissed the presence of the others in favor of focusing on the stallion. "You stand upon the Threshold of Helovia, good sir. The lands were formed by the Gods, who are unfortunately absent due to circumstances beyond even their control, but leave behind four herdlands which each has their patron. In the far north is the Aurora Basin, patron land of the God of the Spark, and inhabited by a group of unicorns who do not appreciate the presence of equines and pegasi. South of that, actually just north and west of here, is the Windtossed Foothills, patron land of the God of the Earth, home to the mercenary group known as the Grey who accept followers of all species, but of a specific lifestyle. If you have done what you have proposed you might have done, that may be a place for you to look. West of that, upon the cliffs beside the sea is the lands of the God of the Moon, the World's Edge. It is home to a group called the Qian, who accept those of any species or creed, and is actually where I hail from. And in the deep south is the Dragon's Throat, land of the God of the Sun, inhabited by a group of pegasi such as yourself, but who also accept the stray equine or unicorn that meet the approval of their leader."
She paused there, to gather her breath. "As you already know, there are outcast bands as well. And the connections between the different herdlands and the outcasts bands are not always ones wrought of rainbows and butterflies. Edge and Throat are allied by longstanding ties founded when both groups were outcast bands themselves. Basin stands aloof, disapproving of all and with tension between themselves and the Edge and Throat, for the Qian wrested the Edge from the unicorns that now dwell in the Basin. The Foothills stand between, neutral to their politics except when the bargains to be struck are good. There is... tension between the Assassins and the Edge as well, for they have proclaimed a number of times to have aspirations to the Moon's lands." She chuckled then, casting an amused glance at Adrixaura. "But they have had one leader die under our watchful gaze, and two others are captives under the watch of our protectors. Yet they seem incapable of learning from their mistakes and keep scrabbling at the Edge borders, threatening the well-being of their members by irritating the Edge and the Throat. I know naught of the Asylum, for they as yet remain content to wander the wild lands."
Her gaze had returned to Eribor, inclining her head to him. "The choice is yours, good sir. You know all there is to know of the lands here and the politics amongst them. Will you seek admittance within one of the three herds that will accept you? Or will you choose the life of outcast, with or without a pre-existing band? You have only to say who you will follow, or walk your own path. If you wish to try your chances with the Foothills, I will gladly accompany you and introduce you to the leaders there. I know them."
Pausing, the grulla mare seemed to realize that she had neglected to introduce herself. "I am Smoke the Wild Rose, Moon Doctor of the Edge, once Military Chieftess of the Foothills before yet more politics required I find a safer home for myself and my children." With that she fell silent, though she retained the sense of quiet authority, now explained by her revelation of holding positions of authority and respect within two different herds at different times.
"You are right to find ire towards some who flock here, winged one. Grasping at fragile straws to boost their numbers to fight their losing causes, without a concern for what truly suits the needs and wants of the stranger who has stumbled into Helovia. Others are genuinely interested in finding the best fit, such as myself."
Lips curving in a smile, half welcoming and half wry, she dismissed the presence of the others in favor of focusing on the stallion. "You stand upon the Threshold of Helovia, good sir. The lands were formed by the Gods, who are unfortunately absent due to circumstances beyond even their control, but leave behind four herdlands which each has their patron. In the far north is the Aurora Basin, patron land of the God of the Spark, and inhabited by a group of unicorns who do not appreciate the presence of equines and pegasi. South of that, actually just north and west of here, is the Windtossed Foothills, patron land of the God of the Earth, home to the mercenary group known as the Grey who accept followers of all species, but of a specific lifestyle. If you have done what you have proposed you might have done, that may be a place for you to look. West of that, upon the cliffs beside the sea is the lands of the God of the Moon, the World's Edge. It is home to a group called the Qian, who accept those of any species or creed, and is actually where I hail from. And in the deep south is the Dragon's Throat, land of the God of the Sun, inhabited by a group of pegasi such as yourself, but who also accept the stray equine or unicorn that meet the approval of their leader."
She paused there, to gather her breath. "As you already know, there are outcast bands as well. And the connections between the different herdlands and the outcasts bands are not always ones wrought of rainbows and butterflies. Edge and Throat are allied by longstanding ties founded when both groups were outcast bands themselves. Basin stands aloof, disapproving of all and with tension between themselves and the Edge and Throat, for the Qian wrested the Edge from the unicorns that now dwell in the Basin. The Foothills stand between, neutral to their politics except when the bargains to be struck are good. There is... tension between the Assassins and the Edge as well, for they have proclaimed a number of times to have aspirations to the Moon's lands." She chuckled then, casting an amused glance at Adrixaura. "But they have had one leader die under our watchful gaze, and two others are captives under the watch of our protectors. Yet they seem incapable of learning from their mistakes and keep scrabbling at the Edge borders, threatening the well-being of their members by irritating the Edge and the Throat. I know naught of the Asylum, for they as yet remain content to wander the wild lands."
Her gaze had returned to Eribor, inclining her head to him. "The choice is yours, good sir. You know all there is to know of the lands here and the politics amongst them. Will you seek admittance within one of the three herds that will accept you? Or will you choose the life of outcast, with or without a pre-existing band? You have only to say who you will follow, or walk your own path. If you wish to try your chances with the Foothills, I will gladly accompany you and introduce you to the leaders there. I know them."
Pausing, the grulla mare seemed to realize that she had neglected to introduce herself. "I am Smoke the Wild Rose, Moon Doctor of the Edge, once Military Chieftess of the Foothills before yet more politics required I find a safer home for myself and my children." With that she fell silent, though she retained the sense of quiet authority, now explained by her revelation of holding positions of authority and respect within two different herds at different times.
